I can feel the sinkin' (But then I came around)
by bitterfloof
Summary: The last photo still shining up at him - Clint and him, standing hand in hand laughing evidently, at the altar of some random crappy chapel. Bucky looked the to the sleeping form of Clint - he had married Clint Barton. [Modern AU]


**Note: CROSSPOSTED ON AO3**

* * *

The first thing that Bucky did when he woke up was roll back over - he'd apparently left the curtains open the night before and now the early (probably not) morning sun was streaming in through the window right into his face and burned his sensitive unadjusted eyes.

Fuck he felt awful - and not just because of the sun - his head pounded in a constant, unrelenting rhythm and shielding his eyes from the light did nothing to help it. On top of his banging headache, he generally felt like he was dying. His stomach was rolling and his limbs felt heavy. What had gone on last night?

On the plus side, he wasn't naked - but at the same time, he was still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt he had gone out in the night before. His jacket was gone (and Bucky could only hope it was somewhere in the room because it had been damn expensive (real leather and all that) losing it was not an option). Eventually, deciding to brave the light, Bucky opened his eyes, rolled and sat up slowly. When his body didn't instantly decide to fight against him, he figured he was in the clear.

That was until something shifted. Glancing sideways (at the behest of his headache) Bucky caught sight of a mess of blonde hair and a rumpled white shirt - for a moment he seriously hoped it was Steve, they'd shared a bed more times than they could count, but the body next to him was too lithe to be Steve and then it hit him.

Clint.

At that same moment, Bucky's body decided it was done playing ball and his stomach rolled, sending him stumbling (quite literally as his legs decided to stop functioning as legs) into the bathroom. After losing an absurdly large amount of alcohol to the hotel plumbing, Bucky sat on the bathroom floor, trying to get a hold of himself and remember what had happened last night and, more importantly, why Clint was in his bed (was this even his room, he had no idea). So, instead of going and finding the solution out to any of these problems - Bucky remained sitting on the bathroom floor.

The world was tilting and swirling before his eyes - fuck he was hungover as hell. It had been a long time since he had felt as rough as he did - usually, it was accompanied by a feeling of happiness since he knew he had a good night, but not this time around. Instead, all he did was feel sick, dizzy and caught with a sense that something wasn't quite right.

"Fuck," Bucky groaned curling up on the floor next to the bath. Now he was in the bathroom, he had no intention of going anywhere, his legs wouldn't carry him - and his only other option was just to crawl back to bed and . . . just no. That was not happening. "I'm dying."

Trying to ward off the nausea that was once again building, Bucky closed his eyes and stayed as still as possible, not even caring that he was lying on the floor of a bathroom (definitely not the most hygienic place - but oh well). He didn't mean to fall asleep, it just sort of happened - one second he was lying on the bathroom floor trying not to throw up again and the next his eyes were fluttering open, the traces of nausea turned to hunger and the headache reduced to a dull ache rather than the thumping monstrosity it had been earlier.

Sitting up, Bucky pulled himself to his feet using the sink - the world didn't spin as much as it did earlier which was a good sign. His mouth was bone dry and tasted faintly of sick, sacrificing all dignity, Bucky simply cupped his hand over the tap and tried to get as much water as he could (manners were for when he didn't feel like death, they could wait). Once that was done, Bucky emerged from the bathroom back into the bedroom. Sure enough, it was Clint who was curled up - still asleep - in the bed. Bucky shook his head lightly, as though that would help him remember what on earth had happened.

Nothing was coming back to him - there were memories, stuck on the edge of his mind but they were lost as soon as they surfaced, and he couldn't make sense of them long enough to matter. Not knowing what time it was, Bucky made the executive decision to just go back to sleep - not like he was going to be particularly useful to anybody. Rounding the bed to crawl back into it, he tripped over something. Bending down, Bucky picked up (thankfully) the jacket he had been wearing last night. Even from holding it, he could hear the vibration from his phone.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he fished the phone out of the inside pocket - but whatever had caused it to buzz was gone by the time he was able to look at it. Even just hitting the lock button to light up the screen, Bucky could see the amount of notifications he had - several texts from Sam, Steve and Tony (he also saw that it was way past noon). Unlocking the device, he opened each of the texts:

Steve [10:03]: Are you okay?

Steve [9:04]: What happened last night, where are you?

Tony [03:02]: Congradulations lover boy!

Sam [02:45]: Yo migh wana to get down here, Steve might have a anurism

Steve [02:24]: Tell me Tony is kidding!

Sam [00:13]: Where did you go?

Tony [23:31]: I'm coming! Wait!

Tony [23:12]: So this is happening? Why you no invite me!

Bucky stared at each of the texts confused. Something had clearly happened - but he didn't have an idea of what. Though, by Tony's texts, it might be worth some degree of concern. There were some photos sent through by Tony on their messaging app - Bucky generally didn't save any of them because it was mostly used for memes and random junk. But something caught his eye behind the blurred out download sign - hitting it, the photo was brought into focus.

It was a photo clearly somebody else had taken, Bucky and Clint were standing close together, Clint grabbing onto Bucky's arm, smiling up at him brightly.

He downloaded the next photo . . . and the next . . . and the next. And with each one, the situation became more and more clear. Letting his phone drop onto the mattress, he paused for a few moments. The last photo still shining up at him - Clint and him, standing hand in hand laughing evidently, at the altar of some random crappy chapel.

Bucky looked the to the sleeping form of Clint - he had married Clint Barton.

He stopped breathing; the room suddenly felt small and tight. The walls were closing in on him. He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears. His hands were shaking, struggling to find something to hold onto. Without a second thought, Bucky stood, grabbed his phone, jacket and shoes and ran from the room without looking back.

Fuck, he needed answers.

* * *

Bucky generally didn't run from his problems, that wasn't his style. He liked to face things head on and just deal with the consequences as and when they might arise. But suddenly discovering he had married somebody he considered a friend . . . well, that was a little more complicated. He booked it from the room, shoving his shoes on once he was in the hallway and clutching his jacket under his arm. He knew what he needed to do - go outside, get some air (he genuinely felt like he was going to pass out) and call somebody.

Probably Steve, he was level headed enough, or Tony, who, according to the texts and photos, was pretty clued up about what was going on.

Luck, however, was very much on his side as when he made it to the stairwell of the hotel - he nearly ran headfirst into Steve who, appearing like the golden haired angel he might as well have been, had apparently been heading to the room that Bucky had ran out from.

The two stared at each other for a moment - and that all but confirmed that something had very much gone down (if the photos didn't already say it too).

"I think I did something stupid Stevie," Bucky admitted feeling very much like a child who had done thing wrong, the panic he had been feeling before only abating ever so slightly. Steve only looked towards Bucky, a sympathetic look in his eye.

"Yeah . . . I think you might have."

The two walked silently towards Steve's room, Bucky's breaths still coming a little shallowly to the point that Steve began to rub gentle circles on his friends back as they walked through the deserted corridors. Once inside, the two sat in silence for a few more moments. The gravity of the situation suddenly seeping into Bucky like a heavy sludge - he already felt physically bad enough from the hangover, the mental guilt and panic certainly wasn't making him feel any better. Not to mention he was still wearing the days before clothing which weren't exactly pleasant smelling – if anything it was on the wrong side of nasty.

"Before anything else, do you mind if I take a shower . . ." Bucky laughed a little (if he didn't laugh, he would cry). "I feel like shit."

"Sure."

Apparently, he had ended up in Clint's room last night which also meant that any spare clothing was still in his room and Bucky didn't remember where he had put his key card to his own room. It might have been in his wallet - which seemed to have gone AWOL from his jacket or jeans (he couldn't remember the last place he'd seen it).

"Hey Steve, do you mind if I borrow a shirt. I think I've lost my wallet with my key card . . ." the whole situation felt ridiculous, he felt like a dumb teenager. Getting drunkenly married, loosing shit - it was like some surreal dream.

"Oh, yeah. No problem."

The shower helped a lot, washing away not only the grime from last night, but the remainder of the lingering brain fog of the hangover. It didn't help him remember much, but it was something.

He could vaguely remember talking to Clint at the bar they had all gone too. Steve had disappeared somewhere with Sam, Tony was . . . somewhere unimportant. Clint had stayed with Bucky, talking and laughing together . . . joking about something. That was the extent of it though, the rest was lost in a haze of alcohol and laughter. He had noticed he wasn't wearing a ring or anything - instead there was a fine silver chain hung around his neck that he knew for a fact belonged to Clint because the two pieces of chain were connected in the middle by a thin silver arrow. Bucky ran a hand lightly over the necklace, heart pounding behind his ribcage.

It had actually happened . . .

"You okay Bucky?" Steve knocked on the door and Bucky was brought back to reality by Steve's gentle voice. At least he didn't seem mad about what had happened - if he knew. Bucky had no idea if Steve knew . . . guess he was going to find out very soon.

"Yeah . . ." Bucky called over the roar of the shower. Cutting the water, he stepped out into the bathroom and dried off as quickly as he could, pulling the borrowed shirt over his head and sliding into his jeans. His hair was dripping over his shoulders when he unlocked the door to the room, but it was the least of his concerns. Steve was sitting on the bed looking at his phone and Bucky sat down at the desk chair. "So . . . did you hear?"

"Yeah, I heard," Steve's voice wasn't any harder than usual, he sounded . . . actually Bucky didn't know. It was hard to place the emotion. "Tony told me. Showed me the photos too."

"Oh . . ." Bucky said dumbly. He let out a little breath. "I thought it was a joke." He looked down at his hands, rubbing his knuckles back and forth. "I wished it was . . . but . . ."

"You really did marry Clint," Steve finished and Bucky nodded.

Bucky nodded, sighing before standing up to crawl onto the bed next to Steve. "I don't know what to do Steve . . . for one, I ran away. And secondly, how do you tell the guy you married 'oh hey, sorry we got married, I was so hammered and now I can't remember what the fuck happened'." He dropped his head into his hands as Steve laid a hand over Bucky's shoulders.

"I don't know what to tell you - running away, attempted or not, was pretty stupid."

Lifting his head, Bucky sighed once again – he'd probably not sighed more times in his life. "Yeah, I know."

"And it's not like you can avoid him. We're going home in the same plane tomorrow."

Bucky laughed a little, nodding slowly. He didn't feel particularly better about everything, but his feelings were less like a black mass eating him from the inside out. He took a deep breath.

"I know I'm going to have to face him at some point . . . I've never had to deal with something like this. I dunno how to," Bucky admitted. "I just wish I could remember how we actually ended up here or what lead to it all."

"That's why you need to go back and talk to Clint, I doubt he's going to mad about it," Steve offered.

Bucky ran a hand over his face. "Can I do it after lunch?"

"Sure."

* * *

Once he was fed and watered, Bucky found himself once again outside Clint's hotel room door. Apparently, Clint had given Steve his extra room key (probably because Steve seemed to be the only one of the group with any kind of sense) which saved a lot of awkward knocking on the door situations. Taking a deep breath, Bucky swiped the key and let himself into the room. Clint was sitting in the bed, scrolling through his phone and frowning a little but looked up when Bucky entered the room. He stood awkwardly at the bathroom door.

"Hey. . ." he greeted casually.

"Hi . . . " Clint replied, pausing for a moment before plastering an evidently fake smile across his face. "I guess we're married then."

Bucky nodded before going and sitting at the end of the bed. Clint scooted next to him, phone still clutched in his hand - one of the photos Tony had sent was clear on the screen. Bucky was laughing, facing towards the camera, Clint was obviously standing on his toes, arms wrapped around Bucky's shoulder as he pulled the taller man towards him so he could kiss Bucky's cheek. Bucky stared ahead at the mirror on the wall, trying not to focus on the photo. Clint looked rougher than he did, the dark circles under his eyes were very prominent and his hair was even wilder than usual. He couldn't have woken up that long ago.

"Where did you go?" Clint asked.

"I needed some air . . . wasn't feeling great this morning," it wasn't a complete lie either.

Clint yawned next to him. "I get that . . ." It was clear he was trying to skirt around the whole situation in the same way Bucky was. It was weird to be acting to awkward and nervous, but that was exactly how he felt inside. This had never happened before - it was made even worse because it was somebody he knew. Somebody he considered a friend. "I can't believe we got married," Clint laughed, it was a little hollow. "And I can't even remember it either! How drunk must we have been?"

"Very . . . very drunk," Bucky replied looking at Clint who, despite his haggard appearance, looked rather bemused. Maybe it was good that he didn't take most things too seriously.

"Did you see the photos Tony sent us. I think I might have to kill him later," Clint laughed. "Unless he's dead already. I messaged him, but he'd not sent me anything back."

Bucky rolled his eyes - Tony would be the one to aid and abet an accidental wedding and then disappear the next morning only to appear in the evening like nothing happened and that he totally didn't drop off the map for nearly an entire day.

"Yeah, I've not heard from him either . . ." Bucky replied.

Clint nodded.

"I'm sorry."

Bucky frowned. "Why? If anything I should apologise for disappearing on you!"

"Well, you at least came back, that's better than some dates I've been on," Clint smiled. "I dunno . . . I just . . . I'm getting used to what happened, well, no, not getting used to, just adjusting to . . . getting over? Ugh, I don't know."

"No, I get it. It's a lot to take in . . ." Bucky's hand ghosted over the necklace he wore, tucked beneath his t-shirt. He could tell that, even if Clint didn't seem that bothered on the outside, his words gave him away. The way he kept tripping over what he was saying and second guessing himself clearly showed that he was more shaken than he let on. It weirdly made Bucky feel a bit better about how he felt.

"Can I call you my husband then?" Clint asked suddenly.

"Wait, wha-" the pair broke off into laughter. It felt nice, a little assurance that, despite it all, the situation wasn't as awkward as it could have been. Clint was still cracking stupid jokes and they were still having a laugh together - maybe it was a sign that nothing had been permanently damaged between them.

"Well, can I?"

"Sure . . . for now," Bucky answered. "Did you take my name, or did I take yours? Or . . . do you think we just double barrelled them," he paused. "James Barnes-Barton . . ."

"James Barton-Barnes," Clint suggested. "Sounds nicer."

Bucky shook his head. It was so ridiculous . . . so unbelievably ridiculous.

"I wish I could actually remember what happened," Bucky admitted and he felt Clint nod next to him. "I can sort of remember . . . but it doesn't make sense. Like some sort of weird dream."

"A weird dream is definitely one way to put it," Clint answered. He hadn't expected to wake up to photos of him marrying Bucky and texts of 'Congragulations' from Tony - he did expect to wake up with a splitting headache (which he did) but that was about it. It had just sunk in - it had happened, he had got married.

Great.

The two sat in silence for a moment - all concept of conversation lost for the moment as the two let everything sink in. Everything the felt about the situation, what they could remembered from the night and what they were going to do.

"I guess we'll just need to deal with it," Clint finally spoke up and Bucky nodded.

"Yeah . . . it's our mess and we need to deal with it."

Bucky looked back to Clint who had taken to staring at the floor. Despite it all, the craziness of the situation - there was an odd feeling settling deep in Bucky's chest. Fuzzy and somewhat warm - fondness, perhaps? Or acceptance of what had happened. Either way, Bucky couldn't put a finger on it but all he did know was, with some amount of assurance, he didn't hate the situation he found himself in.

It wasn't that he particularly wanted to be married . . . but Clint.

Well . . .

Shit . . . maybe he liked him a bit more than he first thought.

Fuck.

* * *

"I can't believe you never stopped them!"

Surprisingly it was Steve who was more annoyed at Tony's lack of damage control over Bucky and Clint's wedding.

"Am I meant to police everything that everybody does?"

"That's not the point!"

Clint, Bucky and Sam shared a glance - the fact that Tony and Steve were arguing like they weren't even there was 1) kind of funny because, damn they could get caught up and 2) really fucking rude - they were there too. It was particularly annoying for Clint and Bucky as the argument was about them - specifically their stupidity the night before and Tony's involvement in said stupidity. But it wasn't his fault, and he really wasn't too blame.

"Can you guys shut up," Clint finally snapped. "Stop talking about us like we aren't sitting right next to you." Steve and Tony paused, turning to stare at Clint for a moment who then resumed talking. "Maybe Tony should have stopped this," he gestured between him and Bucky. "But it happened, we're all adults here. We can deal with it. And I'm sure things sort of thing happens all the time, there are ways to deal with it."

Bucky could see the way Steve was shaking his head, it was meant to be a subtle gesture but Bucky had known him that long that all his little ticks and movements had basically become second nature - he knew Steve was pissed (perhaps more so at Tony for basically being an accessory to the whole thing) but he didn't have any right to be - what had happened, had happened and that was that.

No big deal really . . . well, okay, maybe a little bit of a big deal.

"Technically this has grounds for an annulment instead of divorce because they can claim improper consent due to them being drunk," Tony reasoned.

"Why do you know that?" Bucky asked, genuinely a little curious but Tony simply threw up his hands and didn't say anything else.

"See, it's not the end of the world. A little stupid maybe, but things can be fixed," Sam cut in before Steve could potentially start up again.

Steve shook his head again, standing up from the table they were all sitting at. Tony shouted after him but once the blonde didn't look back, chose to get up and run after Steve (maybe that was a mistake on his part, Bucky would never know) but left Sam, Clint and Bucky sitting at the table looking between each other in a state of bewilderment.

"I feel like a child whose parent is mad at them," Clint said eventually.

"Yeah, I don't get why Steve's so pissed about the whole thing," Bucky replied. "He's not the one who got drunkenly married."

The three shared a laugh.

"I don't think he's mad about the marriage, I think he's more annoyed that Tony let it happen in the first place. I wouldn't worry too much," Sam countered.

Bucky nodded and then paused. "Speaking of Tony, maybe one of us should go and make sure that Steve doesn't kill Tony. They two alone doesn't always end well."

"I'll go," Sam offered. "Leave the newlyweds alone."

Bucky swiped at Sam's direction as he stood up to leave, but it was without any form of malice behind it. That left Clint and Bucky sitting together. Clint, whilst Bucky felt a bit better from his hangover, looked even rougher than he did earlier that same day. Despite sitting indoors, he was still wearing dark shades and was just a little slumped in his chair - it was just a little bit pathetic.

"You okay?" Bucky asked.

"I feel like shit," Clint sighed. "In more than one way. Sorry that this happened, it was stupid and we should never got as drunk as we should. Why did we think getting married was a good idea?"

"I don't know," Bucky smiled a little. "People get drunk, they do stupid things. I guess we just join the dozens of other idiots who have done it too," his smiled faded a little, and Bucky too slid down in his seat. "I guess we'll need to get this annulment sorted before we go home. We have a few days, I'm sure we can find somewhere to get it all fixed."

Clint nodded mutely before resting his head on the table, shades be damned. "Can we do it when I'm a little less hungover?"

"Of course."

There was a moments silence, Bucky could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out to read the messages he'd just received.

Steve [16:32]: I promise I haven't killed Tony if you're wondering

Tony [16:35]: He did, this is Tony from beyond the grave. Avenge me!

Sam [16:40]: nobody is dead. going to get food, you guys coming?

Bucky [16:42]: Sure, be there in a few minutes.

Slipping his phone back in his pocket, Bucky leaned over to gently shake Clint who was very close to falling asleep at the table. The blonde groaned and tried to shove Bucky's arm away without much success.

"The others are going to get food, are you coming or not? Or will the sun be too much for you to handle?"

Clint sat up, rubbing his eyes beneath the shades. "No, I think I'm just going to go to bed. My true vampire nature has decided to emerge."

Bucky rolled his eyes. The two stepped away from the table, Bucky heading off in the direction of Tony, Steve and Sam who he could see in the distance while Clint went to go back to the hotel.

"Hey, Bucky . . ." Clint called before parting ways.

"Yeah?"

"Y'know what . . .doesn't matter. See you later tonight."

Bucky nodded, watching Clint walk away for a moment before going and joining the rest of his friends.

* * *

Surprisingly it was pretty easy to find an office that would take Bucky and Clint's annulment - maybe because it was soon or because it was just a city where it happened a lot, neither were particularly law savvy outside of common grounds. Either way, there were some forms to fill, reasons why the marriage was being annulled and confirmation that it would go through within 2 to 6 months and both parties would be informed when it was confirmed.

And that was that.

Done.

Once it was all over with Clint and Bucky sat outside on the bench of the lawyer's office feeling both a little worn out and a little shaken that - that was it, simple and easy. They were both, technically, free men again. Their stupid drunken mistake would be in the past a few months from then and they would never need to speak of it again.

"So that's that then," Clint spoke first, sounding a little breathless. "Annulment filed for and ready to go."

"Yeah . . . guess we won't be husbands for much longer then," Bucky replied.

He was kind of glad that neither Sam, Steve or Tony had come with them. Bucky really couldn't be bothered dealing with their presence - not out of spite, it was just the sort of situation that he felt was better just being him and Clint. His now ex-husband. That just sounded weird, the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Probably won't stop us being messed about by the guys, at least for a couple of months," Clint said, laughing a little.

"Until it stops being funny to Tony or Sam you mean," Bucky replied and the pair shared a small laugh.

In that moment, sitting on the bench, Bucky was overcome with an odd feeling. The same sort of feeling he got when people told them they were leaving, moving away. Or they were breaking up with him. Or just some other form of bad news - it was an unsettled feeling deep in his chest. He glanced towards Clint who, despite it all, looked relatively calm.

Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. Bucky had no way of thinking.

"It's kind of funny," Bucky said quietly. "It all happened so fast . . . I guess it never really sunk in and now it's over."

"Yeah, I guess I never figured myself as the marrying type really," Clint replied staring up at the sky, the late afternoon sun was beginning to dip behind buildings, painting the world pastel pink. "But, hey, guess there is a first time for everything."

Bucky nodded, a little bit lost for words at that moment. "I guess we should be heading back."

Clint nodded and stood up from the bench, briefly painting himself against the sky and Bucky couldn't help but stare. Even with his rumpled shirt, squinty shades and constant bedhead, Clint was still something to look at. Or maybe that was just his lovesick perception on him.

Either way, Bucky didn't want that moment to end.

"I'm going to pick up a drink from the shops before I head back," Bucky eventually said, standing up. As he moved he felt the cool metal of the necklace Clint had given him. For a moment, he let a hand linger over the arrow around his neck before sighing ever so slightly. "I suppose you should have this back." He unclasped the necklace and held it out to Clint who took it gently. "Tony said it was 'because we don't have rings, this'll do'. Or something like that."

"You could have kept it," Clint replied, slinging the piece of silver around his neck and doing the clasp up.

"No, wouldn't have been fair to keep something that wasn't mine," Clint nodded in response and Bucky shot him a small smile. "I'll see you back at the hotel."

Clint nodded and began to walk away as Bucky crossed the road to the small shop across the road, that sinking feeling weighing down on him as though he might have been walking away from Clint for the last time.

* * *

Two weeks passed surprisingly fast - being caught up with work kind of helped keep his mind off the whole situation, but at the same time, he couldn't help but think back on what had happened. Sure, the annulment had gone through and he was officially a single man again, but it felt surreal. It had actually happened, he had gotten married and divorced in the space of a week (okay so, an annulment wasn't a divorce, so fuck). For some people, that whole thing took months or years, for others it never happened.

The worst part was he hadn't spoken to Clint really since they had got back home. Sure, he worked erratic hours at times and was up from basically the crack of dawn - but he hadn't responded to any invitations to hang out or hadn't really responded to any message. Well, at least not to Bucky's.

Had he really fucked it all up?

That was what kept Bucky stuck on the last few weeks, had one drunken mistake really cost him a friendship. People always say; you can't be friends with an ex - emotions are just too complicated. Plus, Tony always called him an emotional slut - ran around and got attached to people who just didn't give a shit in return or weren't as invested (in friendship or in a relationship). And it was true - he trusted and cared so hard sometimes towards people who just didn't in return. Bucky assumed Clint was different - apparently not.

So yeah, maybe he was moping around a little - a lot - it was something that needed getting over. He just needed a little time. Some times to sort out his tumultuous feelings towards Clint, once those were in check, everything could go back to the way it used to be . . . Maybe.

Yeah . . . probably not.

Steve [20:02]: You want to hang out tonight?

Bucky looked at the text, hovering over the keyboard for a few minutes. He knew really that he should go out, move on with his life. But he also really didn't want, he just wanted to say inside and wallow in his misery for a while longer. It was childish maybe, a little overdramatic or just lovesick of him to lament over a relationship he had no idea whether would have worked out or not.

Bucky [20:12]: Nah, not tonight

Steve [20:14]: You okay?

Bucky [20:17]: Yh

He turned his phone on silent, preferring to not be bothered for the rest of the night. Bucky knew, logically, that Steve would probably get a little freaked out since one word (actually it was less than a word, old style vowel removal text) answers were generally not a sign that people were okay - but Bucky also couldn't be bothered with Steve's mother hen attitude - at times it was sweet and he really appreciated it, others . . . not so much. Just at that moment, was one he just couldn't deal.

So, instead of going out and being social and using the comfort of people who cared about his mental wellbeing - he stayed inside and curled up on the couch like that would do him any good. Being able to wallow in his own self-pity - because that counted as self-care, right?

Well no, but damn it Bucky was going through a break up (divorce, fuck what could that weird situation actually be called) and he dealt in whatever manner felt right, fuck it!

He hadn't bothered to make dinner, instead got changed out of his work clothes and flopped down on the couch, flicking through TV channels trying to find something to watch, but nothing was holding his interest - instead, he felt restless. Annoyed even. Hm . . . maybe going out might have been a good idea. He felt suffocated, like the walls of his apartment were suddenly closing in on him - all the emotions he had been feeling were swirling around in his brain, it was frustrating because he had all this excess energy and no real way of doing anything about it - his body just didn't want to sit still.

Bucky spent a few minutes differentiating between sitting and lying on his couch and pacing about the living room. Only being broken out of the pattern by the buzzer to his apartment going.

Sure Steve hadn't come to drag him out - surely not?

"Steve what is it," Bucky answered automatically.

"Hey . . . it's not Steve," Bucky paused. Clint. "It's Clint, would it be okay if you let me in."

"Eh, yeah, sure," Bucky answered hitting the entry button. He had all of 5 minutes, less than that, to prepare himself to come face to face with Clint. Whatever he was in - it was going to have to do. So he went back to pacing around the living room until the door went - even then, Bucky paused before it. Now or never. He pushed the handle down and opened it to Clint who stood in the doorway looking . . . well, normal.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hey," Bucky replied letting Clint into the apartment.

He closed the door behind the blonde but didn't turn around right away, it had been nearly three weeks since the marriage issue had been and gone - was Clint over it already? Was this him coming to say that he couldn't stay friends with Bucky because of it all? Why were emotions and shit so damn confusing!

"Steve, and by extension, Tony were worried about you," Clint said bluntly after Bucky finally turned around. Huh . . . well, that wasn't what Bucky had been expecting. Not really. "And I guess I was too. Sorry I wasn't replying to messages or anything . . . I guess the whole thing on holiday, well . . . it really kind fucked me up a little."

So it wasn't just Bucky then - that made him feel a little better that he wasn't the only person dealing with the emotional come down of a rather odd situation.

"Honestly, it's fine. You don't need to worry, it's fair if you needed a little time away from everybody," Bucky said, trying to be as positive as possible. If this really was going to be the end of a friendship, might as well make it as mutual and as easy as possible.

Clint sighed - Bucky could tell he was working up the courage to say something. the way he kept putting his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and taking them out again and the way he kept flicking his thumbnails off his index finger were both, very obvious indications, that Clint was coming up with the best way to say something. So, Bucky steeled himself - ready to say okay. It was nice knowing you.

"I was thinking about this . . . ever since we got home actually. Well . . . actually before then, for a while and . . ." Clint paused as a lump formed in Bucky's throat. "I guess the marriage thing just made it a bit easier . . ." He wasn't looking at Bucky anymore, his blue eyes were trained on the floor. "But . . ."

Nope, Bucky couldn't do it. He couldn't let Clint struggle through something, he wasn't exactly the most emotional person. Sure, he moaned about most things but for the most part, he kind of kept himself to himself. The only time it was easy to read Clint's emotions was when he was annoyed or mocking something. Other times, not so much.

"Look," Bucky cut in. "I get it if the whole thing on holiday was too much and you don't want to be friends or just not hang out as much or I don't know - I feel like a fucking school girl. But I get it. You don't really just go back to being friends after getting married. Even for only a few nights. Or maybe some people do, I dunno but it's fine you can-"

Bucky's emotion induced rant was cut off midway by Clint, rather roughly, grabbing onto Bucky's shoulders and looking him straight in the eye. "Bucky . . . shut up. I don't want to stop talking to you . . ." They were almost nose to nose (well kind of, Bucky was just a touch taller than Clint) but Bucky couldn't bring himself to look away, dark eyes trained on the man in front of him.

"You don't?"

Clint dropped his grip on Bucky and smiled. "No . . . I was actually going to ask you on a date."

The world could have stopped turning in that moment. Bucky felt everything shatter around his ears, he could feel his blood drumming beneath his skin.

What!

"I was actually going to do it before we went on holiday . . . but there was never a good time and then the whole marriage thing happened and I thought that would maybe change something and it did," Clint paused. "It just confirmed that I really should have acted before then."

Bucky, finally feeling his soul that had apparently ascended for a few moments return to his body, began to laugh. All the doubts and worries that he had felt over the last few weeks leaving him, everything that he had thought was wrong was actually the complete idiot.

Well didn't he feel like an idiot now?

"So . . . what do you say? Do you wanna go out this weekend?"

"Yeah, sure."

Bucky couldn't help the smile on his face as he decided to pull Clint into a tight hug.

Some stupid situations did work out in the end.

* * *

**Thank you for reading**


End file.
